


All Warmed Up

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Worship, Cunnilingus, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nook Worship, Overstimulation, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius is touchy-feely, as per the usual, and Karkat can't really complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Warmed Up

He presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes and yawns, apparently not noticing you. The clips in his hair are barely managing to keep it out of his eyes, and he has to flick a bit back over his ear every few minutes. You can’t help it if you get caught up watching him sometimes; the way his eyes get half lidded and his lips curve barely downward and his eyelashes make shadows on his cheeks and he flicks his tongue over his lips to wet them makes it hard to want to disturb him.

But even so, you take another step and he blinks, eyes flicking to you while he sets his current project on his desk. “Oh, Karkat. I did not see you.” He says, giving you a tiny smile.

“It’s getting late, Equius.” You murmur, taking the last few steps to reach him and dragging yourself into his lap to let him leech heat off of you. “We should go inside and get you warmed up. You can finish this after some sleep.”

Equius turns his face into your neck and you pepper kisses over his cheek, purring and carefully letting his hair down to run a hand through it. He’s cool under your touch, but that’s not surprising, his blood tends to keep him cooler than you are; you’d be worried if he were warm to you, actually. When you nibble at his ear he giggles, turning his head to kiss you a few times and standing, his fingers lacing together to hold up your rump and the peck to your horn he gives you so gentle you can’t help but hold yourself to him.

Even though you remind him that you can walk, he only asks if you want him to put you down, and since you don’t, really, he just keeps carrying you, teasing that this might be why he “forgets” his coat so often. You keep biting at his neck, leaving delicate marks along his neck and even down to his collar until he settles you on a sofa and fairly lays on you. It’s nice enough that for a while you just kiss his face, bump your horns with his or along his jaw affectionately and grope at him with the languid slowness that you know he likes more than the rushed grabs that came with the beginning of the relationship. Then, though, you drag yourself away from a pretty sizable mark you’re working up on his shoulder and ask if he’s had dinner.

“Mm, yes, I ate a bit earlier.” He murmurs, slurring a little and making you think he was dozing off. “Are you hungry?”

You kiss his nose, sliding your hands up under his shirt and soaking up the little pleased noise he makes when your palms press to his shoulders. “I could eat, yeah. You don’t mind?” His hair is so soft, you keep rubbing your cheek on it.

“Not at all, flushcrush.” He coos, peeling himself off of your chest and sitting back on his heels, his hair slightly mussed and his cheeks barely blue. You lean your head into his hand when he strokes your cheek, kissing his palm. “Would you mind if I continued sitting with you?”

Your eyes roll and you snort, taking his hand between both of yours and holding it tightly, then kissing his knuckles. “Of course not, you big lug.” He chuckles, his ears flicking, and you drag yourself up to kiss him a few more times before finally making your way to the kitchen.

When you come back, he lays his head on your lap, purring low and turning his face against your abdomen. His hands slip under your shirt and you hum, your face coloring when he mouths at your hipbone, drags his blunt claws up your sides, and nearly makes you drop your soup on him when he bites hard enough to bruise on your side. You set your food down while he soothes over the bruise with his tongue, shuffling around to kneel between your legs instead of lay beside you. Tugging at his hair gets him to look up at you, his lips almost a bruised blue and his ears a matching color.

“Need something?” You tease, running your fingers through his hair gently. “Or are you enjoying yourself fine as it is?”

His lips bend into a little smirk, his hands rubbing at the outside of your thighs, and you definitely notice him tugging at your waistband. “If you are willing to let me continue, you will not even need to lift a finger.” His hands slide down, gently pressing your legs apart. “I can take care of it, if you want.” His eyes flutter up at you and you feel a rush of heat through your core, your nook clenching needfully.

“Yeah.” You manage, trying and failing to ignore Equius flicking his tongue over the point of your thumb’s claw. “That sounds alright.”

He laughs one of those laughs that shivers through your chest, and slides his hands down your legs to take your shoes off, leaning his face against your thigh and working his way up to mouth at your nook through your pants. You keep your hands in his hair for a few more moments, then peel your shirt off properly, scooting down to put yourself closer to the edge. He takes his time taking your pants off, taking a special interest in the second grubscar on your left side when you jump at the little nibble he gives you, pausing to drag his tongue over it and sliding his hands down your pants to grope at your ass.

You nearly moan just when he finally pulls your pants down and off, even if you can’t grind your nook against the seam of them, but his first and second finger slide down over your nook and it’s okay, almost soothing. Your nook pulses and you sigh, falling back with one hand on his horn and the other lingering on your abdomen, and he slowly makes his way from your side, over your hip, to your nook, and then you do moan, crooning softly when he presses his mouth firmly against you. It doesn’t take much for you to shuffle your legs over his shoulders, and then he holds tightly to your hips, keeping his mouth pressed to you when you rock against him, shaking, rumbling moans rolling out of your throat.

Head falling back, you let him hold you still, slurring affirmations about how it feels and how much you love him between wordless keens, your hand tangling in his hair to tug. Equius pauses, biting at your thigh, to purr that he loves you, too, before moving up and trailing his tongue over your sheathe and teasing just enough that you try to grind into his face before pulling back to get at your nook again. He hums when you grip his hand on your waist, looking up at you with heavily lidded eyes, pressing his thumbs carefully against your hipbones, dragging a louder croon from your lips when you feel the bruises start cropping up.

Just barely, you can feel his teeth, his nose, and you can completely feel him drawing nonsense out against your nook, his tongue painting over and between your nook’s folds, and you can actually feel them starting to swell with blood. He pulls back, sliding his fingers over your nook slowly, and you purr when he presses one, then two into you. He keeps his claws trim enough that you’re not concerned with them, and besides, you know Equius; he’d never do something he didn’t know how to do perfectly.

Already, with his fingers crooked just up against your globes, you can feel yourself going over the edge, each delicate circle making your thighs jolt and shiver, and it only takes a few more moments for you to lose yourself, curling in over him and gripping at his hair hard enough that it must hurt. He keeps moving through your orgasm, purring up at you and pushing you until you’re shuddering, your thighs closing on his head. You keep shaking even after he stops, gasping for breath and struggling to drag him up to kiss you. The inside of his mouth tastes like you, is warmer than normal because of what it’s been doing, and when you let him go you arch your chest up, murmuring for him to keep going.

Like before, he takes his time getting there, drawing his lips over your neck, shoulders, and chest, kissing his way across a messy, meandering path over your body, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin now and then. You just lay there, catching your breath and petting his hair to make him purr, your head fuzzy and your legs getting stiff over his shoulders like they are, but when he stops bending you partially in half, it’s better, even if his bulge isn’t pressing through his pants and against you.

Equius tugs you to the edge of your seat, but pauses to help you pile whatever pillows and cushions you can behind yourself, laughing softly with you and meeting your eyes, his (clean, how thoughtful of him) hand slipping into yours. “I love you, Karkat.” He purrs, licking his lips again, a sly grin spreading across his face while he just.. Looks at you.

“What?” You mutter, shifting a little under his gaze. You chuckle a bit nervously when you speak next. “What’s taking you so long?”

He hums, eyelids fluttering and cheeks turning dark blue. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is soft, almost reverent, nearly embarrassed, and, well.

You can’t really come up with a snappy retort to that.

It only takes a second more before Equius is kissing up your thigh, gently pressing your legs apart, and you sigh when his still-cool tongue drags over your nook, letting yourself fall back into your pillow pile. You rake your hands through his hair, breathing low and letting his smooth, careful movements push pleasure through you, his hands sliding up your abdomen and resting on your hips. You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and it makes your legs twitch with him focusing so carefully on your nook, the heels of your feet pressing to his shoulders to hold him there.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you feel your body getting tense, even before he slowly, taking every caution you know he does, slides his hands back from your hips to spread your legs open, one hand on either thigh. It takes no effort at all for him to pin you like that, and it makes you feel almost, almost too vulnerable, but you know that he’s more than capable and willing to defend you until he can’t anymore, and that little boost of emotion that knowing that sends through you makes it all the better when he laves his tongue along your sheatheslit, repeatedly, until your bulge finally slithers out.

Equius takes your bulge into first his mouth, and then his throat, his head bobbing and his tongue pressing against the underside of it just enough, with an ease you still never expect, swallowing somewhat easily around you. You croon when he presses three fingers into your nook, slowly pumping them in and out of you in time with the bobs of his head and while making these little, stuttering noises. Like usual, he waits for you to tug him back by his horns before taking a breath, and looks up at you with heavily lidded eyes and red prematerial dripping down his chin. He licks his lips, his cheeks flushed dark blue, and presses just a little harder than usual against your globes, taking your groan and your head falling back to swallow your bulge again, nose pressed to your pelvis and low, rumbling purrs shaking through his throat and making you keen. You’d be thrashing if he didn’t hold your hip down, but you’re just making noises you can’t name, trying to buck into his throat and staring down at his open blue eyes, wondering how any 12 sweep old mutant is lucky enough to have a b100b100d like him at all, and how it’s you.

With one last, drawn out hum, he drags you, shaking and stuttering his name, over the edge again, and he has to stop rubbing the pads of his fingers against your globes to hold you still enough for him to take you to the root and swallow everything not seeping out of the corners of his lips anyway, keeping himself there with your bulge in his throat until your legs refuse to stop shaking and your moans have devolved into guttural cries. Gripping at his hair and begging him to do anything with wordless, feral noises, you sob a final keen when he pulls away, your orgasm either ending or whichever one you had been sent to ending.

Your stomach is shaking, your legs feel numb, and you can only coo and purr at him, managing to wrap him in a hug with some effort. He takes you and tucks your head under his chin, laying to one end of the couch with his head on the pile of pillows (which is smaller, since your thrashing knocked a good few off) and petting up and down your back. As your body stops shaking with aftershocks, you slowly convince your leg to wrap around his hip and encourage him to drag you closer by kissing the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Equius keeps his hands planted on you firmly, one on your hip and one on the curve of your ass, and when you’re finally as close as you wanted to be to begin with, you can feel his bulge fighting the seams of his surprisingly strong pants against your thigh.

“Equius.” You murmur, pausing to bite his ear, gently, savoring the shiver that runs through him with slow, soothing licks to gentle away the discomfort you’d caused. “Equius, let me take care of you.” Your legs are starting to listen to you again, so you press your hips firmly to his. “Let me take you, Equius, flushcrush, blueberry.”

He squirms against you, meeting your gentle coos with his own, his skin heating on his neck and ear. “I don’t want to hurt you, Karkat. Don’t you need to rest?” You’re already licking his neck, and you note that he exposes his neck even more for you, his hips pressing against yours a bit more and making you hum softly at his bulge writhing against you through the cloth.

“It’s not like I’d ask if I wasn’t okay.” You purr, brushing his hair off his face delicately, then peppering kisses over his skin. “Let me take care of you, lover.”

Nose pressed under his jaw, you cuddle yourself closer, letting him suck up your heat. “I-if you’re sure, you won’t be hurt?” He kisses your cheek, your lips, light and affectionate, until you nod. “You won’t let me hurt you, will you?” His ears twitch.

“You won’t hurt me. I wouldn’t let you anyway, but you won’t.” You coo, kissing his throat. “You’ve never hurt me, you know? I love you.”

Equius’s arms shift around you and he kisses you again. “I love you, too.”

His mouth tastes cold, but it’s still so nice that just kissing him for a while is good anyway, slowly stripping him as well as you can while laying on your side. He’s as slow and methodical as ever, even though you barely tug at his waistband and he fights his shorts off, his bulge twisting up to curve against the cleft of your ass and pressing cool, slick weight against your nook. You hold yourself close to him, kissing him just as hard and fevered as he kisses you and gasping pleased noises into his mouth.

Your nook is sensitive, almost overly so, your thighs and hips already bruised and sore, but it takes only a few minutes before he rolls over you, sliding his hand along your body to lift your other knee on his side, then leaning away. His bulge writhes against your nook and you lift yourself, your hand on the back of his neck. He rocks his hips forward, bit by bit, easing himself into you slow enough that even if you’re shaking again by the time his hips grind into yours, it doesn’t hurt. There’s fire licking up your spine, your head buzzing and your nerves tight with an orgasm nearly there already. He mewls softly, rolling into you and taking his time with it. One hand sliding down his back, you grope at his ass, then swat it, earning a soft yelp.

“C'mon, get going.” You tease, gently, your voice breathy as it is. “It’s so good, Equius, keep going.”

He laughs, rocking forward sharply and making you wrap your legs around his hips tightly. Another sharp rock and you keen, jumping, until he finds a fast, smooth past, his hair tickling your chest where it falls down. His bulge is twisting, pressing against your globes and filling you just, just perfectly. He licks your throat and you shudder, coming hard, curling in on yourself with a squawked moan, clinging to him and babbling at him not to stop. He only slows, kissing you deep and holding his hips to yours, his bulge writhing in you deliciously, keeping you from coming properly down, your abdomen twitching and your thighs tight.

Arms circle under your back, lifting you up and holding you close to him, which puts his mouth right next to your ear, earning you soft moans and whispers of your name, that you’re so good and that he loves you so much, his strong arms supporting you easily and his strong thighs flexing under you. It’s good, though at this point you’re mostly just letting him have you, taking the pleasure he’s giving you and slurring that you’d stay like this forever if you could, even though your hips hurt as it is.

Equius eases your bulge out again after a while longer, his movements getting erratic and his noises getting high and breathy, and you encourage him, your bulge wrapping around his hand before spilling material over his lap. You keen, shudder, grind into him with claws biting into his shoulders, whining because at this point, it kind of hurts. Luckily, he’s not more than ten minutes off, and you’re gone by then, totally unable to come down and shaking with every minute movement he makes. He fills you with icy blue, keeping himself pressed close so it doesn’t all spill out and moaning softly, kissing you sloppy.

It takes a good, long while to manage to disentangle from him, even with him helping, and then you have to struggle through a shower with him, and by the time you’re empty again and clean you’re numb and barely conscious, draped across his lap like a blanket. He’s carefully looking you over, purring and soothing the deeper bruises he’s left until you bat his hands away.

“I’m tired, Equius.” You murmur, kissing his face. “Let’s sleep.”

Arms under your knees and shoulders, you’re limp in his hands. “I’ll look you over later.” It’s a short walk to your block, and then you wrap yourself around him, pressing to him and leading one of his legs between yours, even if it’s probably not that comfortable for you, because you’re selfish and he’s just the right amount of cold to soothe your muscles.

He passes out before you, wrapped up against you and mumbling that his jaw is stiff, and you just pet his hair, giggling. Like always, he murmurs softly in his sleep, numerical equations you don’t understand and random mentions of you or Nepeta, but it’s so normal to your routine now that it’s soothing, more than anything. It’s only a small while longer before you fall asleep, and you look forward, even as you fall asleep, to waking wrapped up with him, his hair tangled to a rat’s nest that needs your help to comb it out and your legs stiff to where you can convince him to carry you around for the night, or at least keep you nearby to make sure you don’t need anything, and you affirming him that you need his kisses desperately.

Your matesprit spending the night with you is something you always look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on the horse and so is Karkat lmfao  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


End file.
